


A Late Night Special from the Stark Salon

by remreader



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Banter, F/M, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Morning Sickness, Pregnant Pepper Potts, Star Wars References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23922286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remreader/pseuds/remreader
Summary: Morning sickness is keeping Pepper up all night, but Tony's there to help her feel better.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 24
Kudos: 105
Collections: Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019, Pepperony Bingo 2020, Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	A Late Night Special from the Stark Salon

**Author's Note:**

> In case this is a deal breaker for anyone, there *are* mentions of vomiting in this, but nothing is described.
> 
> In other news, I filled squares in 3 bingos with this fic!
> 
> Title: A Late Night Special from the Stark Salon  
> Collaborator Name: newnewyorker93  
> TSB Card Number: 3081  
> Squares Filled:  
> • Tony Stark Bingo: K2 - flutter  
> • Pepperony Bingo: N1 - pregnancy  
> • Ladies of Marvel Bingo: N4 - homesick  
> Main Pairing: Tony Stark/Pepper Potts  
> Rating: Gen  
> Major Tags: Fluff and Mild Hurt/Comfort, Morning Sickness, Star Wars References  
> Summary: Morning sickness is keeping Pepper up all night, but Tony's there to help her feel better.  
> Word Count: 1545

“Hey, how’re you doing?” Tony asked. Pepper’s morning sickness - an obvious misnomer, he’d complained; she’d joked in response that their unborn baby had clearly inherited his sense of time (or lack thereof) - had hit again, as it always seemed to, just as the two of them were getting snuggled into bed for the night. They’d spent the past nearly an hour having some extended quality time with the bathroom floor; Pepper with her eyes closed and breathing deeply to try and settle her stomach between rounds of puking her guts out and Tony doing his best to comfort her with idle conversation and soothing backrubs. “Feeling any better yet?”

Pepper sighed. “A little, but…”

“Not enough to risk heading back to bed?”

She nodded apologetically. It seemed that every time she started to feel marginally better, it all came rushing back full force the moment she tried to move away from her safe proximity to the toilet bowl. Still, it could be worse. Tony’s tendency towards design excess meant that they had a surprisingly comfortable bathroom floor, with luxurious plush bath mats and heated flooring. (“Plus,” he’d quipped to Pepper one night, getting a headstart on practicing his dad joke skills, “you’ve got a comfy husband pillow right here at your disposal.” Which was corny as hell, but she’d giggled appreciatively anyway.)

“Well, in that case-” Tony reached up to grab Pepper’s hairbrush off the edge of the sink, seemingly undaunted by the possibility of another all-nighter. “-I’ve got something special in mind for tonight.”

Pepper grinned. They’d hit on this particular little ritual a few weeks ago - Tony’s absentminded fiddling with Pepper’s hair (an unsurprising consequence of his fidgety need to always have something to do with his hands) had evolved naturally into him trying out increasingly intricate hairstyles. For her part, Pepper found it a welcome sensory distraction, something to focus on other than her churning stomach. It made the whole situation just a little more tolerable, and it was always fun seeing what he came up with. Three nights ago he’d managed a halfway decent French braid, and the night before that two pigtail braids which, Tony being _Tony_ , he’d unveiled by holding them straight out perpendicular to her ears and calling her Pippi Longstocking. “So what’s it going to be this time?”

“Nope, it’s a surprise!” Tony proclaimed cheerfully. “I will, however, give you a hint. I’m nice like that.” His fingers stilled in Pepper's hair and he rested his head briefly on her shoulder to hum a few bars into her ear. _Star Wars_.

She laughed. "I see...and do I, by any chance, need a metal bikini for this particular fantasy?"

“What?!” Tony protested, as if scandalized by the very idea. “First of all, if I was going to fantasize about you-”

“If?”

“- _if_ ,” he continued unabated, “I was going to fantasize about you in a metal bikini, it would _definitely_ be an Iron Man one.”

“Oh, of course.” Pepper responded, biting back a smile. “Silly me.”

“Actually,” Tony cocked his head to the side like he was seriously pondering the matter, “that does sound pretty good...what _did_ we do with those skimpy little numbers from the Expo? I’ve got a sudden urge to play dress-up…” A quick jab from Pepper’s elbow quickly dissuaded him from that particular course of thought. “Alright, _fine,_ you can just stay in your pilfered pajamas then.” He slid a finger under her shirt and snapped it playfully against her skin.

“Well that’s a relief.” Pepper smoothed back down the worn cotton fabric of the Metallica t-shirt she’d _borrowed_ from Tony’s extensive collection. She slept in his shirts most nights anyway, had done for years now, but she’d been finding them especially comforting lately. In a time when the smell of most foods, and even her own shampoo, was liable to make her queasy, the lingering scent of, well, if she was perfectly honest with herself, of _Tony_ , was proving to be a welcome exception to the rule. Just nuzzling down into her borrowed clothing and breathing him in was sometimes enough to keep the nausea at bay.

They settled into a companionable silence for a while after that, the only sound Tony’s occasional humming as he worked, weaving and tucking and whispering soft apologies when he accidentally pulled too hard. It was relaxing, sitting like this. Losing herself in the sensation of Tony’s fingers moving deftly through her hair, his nails scratching lightly against her scalp and calloused fingertips brushing against the back of her neck as he braided, and letting everything else fade into the background.

“So if I’m Leia...” Pepper eventually mused, “I assume that means you think you're Han Solo?”

Tony shrugged, trying not to sound too pleased with the comparison. "You said it, not me."

"I don't know,” Pepper teased. “I think you're a little short for that."

"Yeah, well you're too tall to be Leia,” Tony indignantly countered, “and you don't see me complaining. I'm _trying_ to make you a badass space princess, why are you making this difficult?"

 _Because bantering like this, with you, makes it feel like everything's alright in the world,_ Pepper thought. "Because it's fun," she said.

"You're an evil woman, Pepper Potts."

"I try."

“Well, if you’re all done casting _baseless_ aspersions about my height,” Tony said after a brief pause, still pretending to mope, “I’m about finished here. Just - hang on - one last finishing touch...” He pulled a towel off the rack behind him and wrapped it around Pepper with a dramatic flourish. “Your costume, your highness. If only I had an Ewok for you, to really complete the look...ah, well. Ready?”

They turned around to face the body-length mirror hanging from the bathroom door so Pepper could get a look at Tony’s latest masterpiece. There was a single braid twisted round her head like a crown - Leia on Endor in _Return of the Jedi_. It was perfect. Sure, the braid was a bit uneven and drooping on one side where he hadn’t _quite_ mastered the technique of weaving it in, but Tony's face peeking over her shoulder was beaming with that goofy lovesick grin of his, and that more than made up for any technical flaws. He opened his mouth to speak but Pepper, suspecting what was coming next, preempted him with a fondly exasperated sigh. “If you say I’m glowing, Tony, I swear…” He’d been acting extra sappy towards her lately, which was honestly pretty endearing most of the time, but such blatant descent into cliché was just too much.

“I would never!” Tony protested. “Besides,” he pointed out, “I’ve _seen_ you glow, it’s actually a little scary…” Pepper elbowed him again and he quickly added, “Very hot though! Literally _and_ figuratively. Anyway, Mrs. Grumpy Gills, I was _going_ to say that you look beautiful as always. Ready to take on the whole Empire. Even if my hairdressing skills do still leave something to be desired.” He temporarily ‘fixed’ the drooping braid, pinning it into its proper place with one finger, and leaned in to give Pepper a quick peck on the cheek. “So, come on, I’m dying of anticipation here, what do you think?”

Pepper was about to answer when - return of the dreadful timing - a powerful wave of nausea hit and she was forced instead to quickly spin back around and hurl the remaining contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl.

“That bad, huh?” Tony commented ruefully when she’d finished. He offered over a tissue for her to wipe her mouth. “I really thought I was improving. Still,” he reasoned, trading Pepper the used tissue for a cup of water so she could take some sips to calm her stomach a bit, “I suppose I’ve gotten worse reviews.”

Pepper groaned. “Not exactly the reaction I intended,” she reassured him, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze. “I really do love it.”

He returned the gesture. “I know.”

Pepper laughed and leaned back, settling herself against Tony’s chest. At least the nausea was ebbing back again after this last bout, exhaustion creeping in and taking its place. She yawned and let her eyes drift shut. Just...for a moment.

“Oh sleepy is good, sleepy is very good!” Tony wrapped his arms around her in a loose hug. “Want to try and rest here for a bit?”

Pepper nodded. She was pretty sure she was done for the night but it still felt safer staying here, like when she’d had stomach bugs as a little kid. “At least for a little while.”

Tony gingerly scooted them backwards, until his back was pressed up against the wall by the bathtub, doing his best to jostle Pepper as little as possible. She shifted a little to get comfortable again, nestling her head against his shoulder and pulling her towel up to cover both of them like a blanket. The motion was enough to nudge her braid crown loose from where the ends were tucked in and it unraveled, golden-red strands twirling out and falling gently, lazily onto both of them. “Oops,” she mumbled drowsily, “sorry.”

“Shh, it’s ok.” Tony pressed a soft kiss to the top of Pepper’s head. “Night, Princess,” he whispered, and she fell asleep in his arms.


End file.
